What was and what will never be
by OkamiMars
Summary: Short fic in two parts situated around events that occurred -and could have occurred - just after the ending of season 5, and somewhere around the first part of season 7, regarding Dean's feelings towards Lisa and Ben Braeden. *No season 7 spoilers*
1. THEN

Dean could hear the sound of plates behind him but he wasn't paying attention. His mind was far away, lost in the cage where his brother was trapped for eternity.

Ben was sitting across the table from him, watching him in silence. He wanted to talk to Dean but the expression on his face held him back.

"Are you okay?"

Lisa's voice brought Dean back from his reverie and he realized where he was. He drank some whiskey from the glass he was holding on to like a life-line after reassuring Lisa he was fine. That was a lie he had perfected over the years; one he knew sounded hollow. He knew Lisa didn't believe it, not the first time he had said it, not now, but she didn't push him. He liked that. There were a lot of things he liked about her. And having Ben around was awesome. He just wished he could actually enjoy this life, enjoy them… but he just couldn't.

But a promise was a promise.

"Heads up, kiddo," he said to Ben as he threw him a piece of bread, pushing aside the haunting shadows of his past for a few moments so he could at least have a peaceful dinner with them.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Lisa returned from sending Ben to sleep and found Dean watching TV on the couch with a recently filled glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. She was worried about him, mostly because he refused to talk about what had happened; she could see how broken he felt.<p>

She sat down quietly next to him, determined not to let another night pass without saying the thing she needed to say.

Dean felt Lisa settle down beside him and unglued his eyes from the news he wasn't really watching to turn his gaze on her.

"Hey..." she smiled at him.

"Hey you..." was his only reply, together with an attempt to smile back. He unconsciously took another drink from his glass as he stared at her; he didn't know why, but her smile had a soothing effect on him. Dean left his glass on the coffee table and moved his hand to caress her cheek. Lisa leaned on his palm.

"Dean, I need to tell you something..."

Dean's stomach took a turn. This is it, he thought, she's finally gonna kick me out. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just..." she hesitated but then looked straight into his eyes and carried on, "I know you're hurting and I know you don't want to talk about it. I just want you to know I'm here for you."

Dean couldn't hold Lisa's gaze for long. He dropped his eyes as a pain in his chest and throat started throbbing when he heard those words. This wasn't fair for her. She deserved someone better. Someone... whole.

"Lisa..." He croaked and then cleared his throat before he continued. "I am sorry. I can't... I'm fucked up and I wish I could be more..." He stopped. He didn't even know what he was trying to say.

Lisa moved closer to him to hold him tight in her arms. "It's ok, Dean. You don't have to be anything more than you are." She rested her hand on his chest. "Time heals all wounds, as cliche as that might sound."

Dean's arms surrounded her and he kissed her hair, breathing her in.

After everything, after saving the world and losing his brother, if this was how it had to be, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

He was done.

Maybe someday he would open up to her. Then again, maybe not.


	2. NOW

A black car parked on the other side of the street, safe in the pool of darkness that the streetlights couldn't breach. The rumbling of its motor disturbed the peace of the night until Dean pulled out the keys from the ignition and hesitated; maybe he should just leave.

He eventually put the keys back in but left them there.

He looked at the front window of the house he had been searching for and ran his hand down his mouth, nervous. He didn't know what he was expecting. He just wanted to look at them, just one more time.

Dean waited, getting more and more fidgety by the minute. Just when he was about to get the hell out of there, the front door opened and a shaft of warm light carved a path on the front yard, all the way to the curb. Laughter and voices he knew like the lines of his palms reached him from the inside.

He felt his chest constricting the moment he saw them.

At first, only a black silhouette appeared on the door frame but he recognized who it belonged to even before his eyes had time to adjust to the light. Ben was carrying a big dark bundle out of the house; the light from the streets allowed Dean to see that the kid was taking out the trash, not a corpse, like he would probably had been doing at Ben's age.

He watched him as he walked to the garbage can. God, Ben had grown so much since the last time he'd seen him. He was becoming a man so fast. A smile almost touched his mouth but then he remembered Ben didn't know who he was anymore. The closest thing he had gotten to be a father and it was as if it had never even happened. Not for Ben. It didn't matter that he wasn't his real son; he had loved him like his own. He still did.

He had been so proud of him. Always. He wished he would have told him that more often...

Dean looked away and closed his eyes, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

When he finally was able to look back up, he noticed Lisa.

She was waiting for her son, leaning against the doorframe, protecting herself from the chill of the night by wrapping her arms around her torso. She had a smile on her face as she watched Ben.

He felt his heart thump against his chest once but, after that, all he could feel was the desolation that covered his inner landscape. Lisa would never smile for him again. He would never be able to kiss her again, to wake up after a terrible night and find her ready to offer him whatever comfort she could give, knowing he wasn't alone.

Not that it mattered now anyway.

In that moment, Ben reached the front of the house and got back inside. Lisa closed the door and took the light with her, leaving Dean in the dark.

He knew it had been the right thing to do for them, that they were better off without him, without ever knowing him... but this aching grief he felt, it crushed his lungs and heart, this sense of terrible loss haunted him as if it was the real ghosts of all the people he had ever loved, lost forever to him... it sometimes became too much.

He also knew he would have to live with it for the rest of his life, for there was no putting to rest the remains of his memories, no salt n' burn, no easy way out.

But all this knowledge was useless to him. It didn't make him feel better. Hell, it just made everything worse.

God, how he missed them...

He ran his hand down his face, taking with it the tears that were escaping his eyes.

"Jesus Christ..."

He caught his reflection in the rearview mirror and saw the stranger he sometimes found looking at him on the other side. Why do you even bother to wake up every morning and keep living in this shithole that's your life? he seemed to ask him silently.

The pair of green eyes just stared back at him without any answer. He didn't have one.

He turned the Impala's engine on and drove off into the night.


End file.
